Tag Archives: 18th century clothes

Still More Sacques

29 Tuesday Oct 2013

Posted by in A Silk Sacque

≈ Comments Off on Still More Sacques

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

1770-1780, Colonial Williamsburh 1999-247,A-C
ca. 1770 Colonial Williamsburg, 1993-330,A
ca. 1755 (Silk), dress remodeled ca. 1770. Colonial Williamsburg 1990-12,1
ca. 1750, altered ca. 1775, Colonial Williamsburg 1989-330,1
ca. 1775, remade late 19th century, Colonial Williamsburg, 1955-428,1
1770-1780, Colonial Williamsburg CW 1991-472, A-C

I’m particularly interested in remodeled gowns, not that I have the patience to make a ca. 1750 or 1760 gown and then re-make it, even though I suppose it would be the path to the greatest authenticity. In figuring out “what next” now that the pleats are stitched down and secured to the lining, and the front panels cut, and one even pinned, awaiting a seam, I looked at the sack/sacque in Costume Close Up. It’s both tiny and a polonaise, so it’s not the best example for me to follow, but when you’re trying to understand construction before you totally screw up  take the next steps, you look at whatever details you can.

That led me back to Colonial Williamsburg’s collections database, which I try to avoid because they don’t have stable permalinks to their records. However, they have good cataloging and an amazing collection, so it’s hard not to end up back there.

I feel a little more confident in thinking of a ca. 1770- 1775 gown with a compère front. A compère front is a false stomacher, where there are two halves sewn to either side of the opening in the bodice. The sides then button closed. Button, and not pin, people: sweet. I will gladly trade you a week of sewing buttonholes for a wardrobe failure today (Of course, I’m not sure whether a compère front is accurate for a ball gown, but I very much want to avoid a pin explosion at a public gathering.)

Trim is another tricky area: in my regular, 21st century life, I am not someone who wears ruffles and lace or even many colors other than black, brown, grey and red. When I chose the cross-barred fabric, it was a choice really grounded in who I am, and in my love of things architectural, bold, and elegant. (Thanks to my Dad and my education, I now wonder, can one make a Miesian sacque? Let’s find out.)

Serpentine trim, no matter how appropriate and accurate, is not for me. I like the simple trim on the purple gown (padded furbelows), and will probably replicate linear, and not serpentine, trim.

Green Indeed

22 Tuesday Oct 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Events, Making Things

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Regency Green: Kochan & Philips + Robert Land = Matchy-matchy.

As expected, Mr Najekci dispatched the K&C wool before the Hook, so last Thursday evening when I arrived home after Gallery Night, there was a box of delicious waiting for me. And, also as expected though mostly hoped for, the wool and shoes were super simpatico. This will be a fun project when I get myself sorted to it.

I have not yet had the time to put all the projects into a spreadsheet, but I think it would help keep things organized and on schedule. For example, I have:

  • to work out the details and rationale of the sacque, vis-a-vis date and style
  • to finalize the Spencer pattern
  • to pattern and fit a frock coat, waistcoat and breeches for Mr S ca. 1775
  • to ask about the regimental for Mr S, which will be wanted eventually
  • to face making a tent by next summer
  • a plan for kettle bags, since I’d like us to pack lighter & more authentically
  • to fix my stays situation
  • an inordinate desire for a splashy bonnet to go with that Spencer
  • two shirts to make up for Mr S and the Young Mr
  • a red short cloak, for easier movement

Once I have a schedule and a plan, making things by deadline is somewhat easier. It’s “bridge” season now, between cooling and heating, summer and winter fashion collections, and that’s as good a time as any to work out plans for the winter. There’s nothing the guys must have for an event that they haven’t got already–for Fort Lee, they can wear their short wool jackets under their 10th MA hunting frocks and be perfectly authentic and warm. (The brown and green coat is 1777, and the Fall of Fort Lee is 1776. The blue and white short-tailed regimentals are 1781. No coat for you!)

So it’s worth taking the time to regroup, even as I rush headlong into projects…and considering I have jury duty (no scissors!) this week, maybe I should add hand-knit stockings to that list.

The ‘Bigger’ Issues

18 Friday Oct 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Fail, Making Things, Reenacting

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

What of those wardrobe issues?

1. The Cross-Barred Gown is Too Big. I will have to take it apart and make it smaller as it is too wide across the back in general and the shoulders. This is fairly simple.

2. The stays are Too Big. I can lift them up and do the shimmy inside them. Seriously. Eighteen months ago, when they were made, I had a two inch gap at the back and the front did not lace closed. Now I can lace them shut front and back.

Whether I have some body image issues or am just a crack-addled monkey can be debated among impolite company some other time, but to solve these problems, here’s the half-baked scheme plan I have in mind:

I re-cut and re-fit my bodice block for an open robe and made it smaller. (For the sacque, I need only trim the sides of the back because I haven’t gotten any farther than that, thank goodness! Now I have a better sense of the shoulder width I need to fill with pleats, also good.) For the Cross-Barred Gown, dis-assembly and re-construction can happen in the spring. Simple enough, and adjustable, too but…

Stay pattern mock-up, measured.

Stay pattern mock-up, measured.

The stays are a little different, and much more serious. I’m not yet sure what to do. I could unstitch the binding and the panels and remove some bones, re-stitch the seams and re-apply the binding…or I could start all over, but make the stays a size smaller. The cardboard mockup measures 33 inches across. With a tape measure snugged up, I measure 37 inches around. Seems like all should be well, no? Two inches, front and back?

32 inches, but they don't fit.

32 inches, but they don’t fit.

It is not. Here you can see the green stays and the yard stick: 32 inches. I should have five inches altogether, right? No. These lace shut front and back (see the back lacing, kindly trust me on the fronts).

How did I not notice this before?

How did I not notice this drop before? (The pale line is the tide line of petticoat waistbands & ties)

Then I compared the mock up and the stays. Curiouser and worser!

Somehow when I assembled this hot mess, I mis-aligned the pieces,and the fronts are lower than they should be. This explains much about the increasingly poor quality of fit as these slide down my ribcage…as you can imagine, the stays can’t do their job when they’re not in the right place to do their job.

If I am to reclaim these and my decorum, the first step will have to be dis-assembly simply to get the various panels into the their proper places. I think it would be fairly simple to do to the fronts, and then I could end some of the madness by sewing the front panels shut and converting these to back-lacing stays. It might be only a temporary fix, but that alone would be worth the effort. Fortunately, I won’t require these until November 23, and in the meantime, I know which gowns are too big, and need to be smaller. With open fronts, at least they’re pretty adjustable.

Catastrophic Wardrobe Failure

17 Thursday Oct 2013

Posted by in 1763 Project, Clothing, Events, Fail

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

Table at the Bostonian Society, infant stays to the lower right.

Table at the Bostonian Society, infant stays to the lower right. Photo courtesy Sew 18th Century

Several weeks ago now, Sew 18th Century and I went up to Boston to be part of the People of 1763 event at the Bostonian Society. I hope she knows how grateful I was and am to her for her help and thoughtfulness in preparing an excellent table of examples. The infant’s stays were, by far, the most interesting thing people found all day. (While Sew 18th Century ate her lunch, I did hear about how a woman from California was appalled there were not more Boston terriers in Boston, and when I suggested that perhaps the financial district wasn’t where you’d find dogs, in general, but that the Common and the Garden might have more dogs and terriers in particular, I got to see cellphone pictures of her Boston terriers. I’m still intrigued by this conversation.)

Too big, and destined for re-making

Before total failure. Photo courtesy Sew 18th Century.

But all day I fought with my gown, which proves you should not wear something in public until you have fully tested it at home. Finally, packing out, the fronts and the straps separated with a flourish of leaping pins, and all decorum was lost. I began to wonder about exactly what had prompted earlier male compliments on the gown, especially when I discovered the loose stay lace at the top of my stays…and then found the lace had come untied and was unlacing itself from the bottom up! And of course, while outside looking for my husband (reportedly carried off by bears), my hat and cap blew off, and since the gown was coming undone, they were all the harder to catch, adding to the wardrobe mayhem and my discomfiture.

I have since re-looped and double-knotted the stay lace, so I hope it will not come undone again at the base (and of course I had no bodkin handy that day). But still, there were other, “bigger,” issues, to be explored tomorrow.

Saturday to Saturday

02 Wednesday Oct 2013

Posted by in 1763 Project, Clothing, Events, Living History, Museums, Reenacting, Research

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

Demonstration at the Old State House

Demonstration at the Old State House

That’s last Saturday, outside the Old State House, for the “People of 1763” event. Sew 18th Century and I provided a material culture/ladies’ clothing presentation in the Hands on History room. The guys drilled outside, had their photos taken, and represented the militia. The Bostonian Society had over 1200 people in the museum last Saturday, which is a pretty respectable number for a small place. It can also leave you feeling somewhat overrun. (All my photos turned out fuzzy: all I had was a shaky hand and my phone. Chalk it up to needing more sleep.)

Gossip!

Gossip!

This coming Saturday is What Cheer Day at the John Brown House Museum, and my sewing and research and house prep continues, if not apace, at a steady pace. Mannequins have been put away, furniture moved, and the accents practiced. By the time we were trying to say, “These are not the droids you’re looking for” with 18th century Maine vowels, we knew it was time to go home. Why this and not “I’ll put the kettle on to boil,” I do not know.

It’s still hard for me to get a handle on my character, and not so much her background as her attitude. I’m not very good at being servile or lady-like, which is why, if I’m still working for the Browns, I must be a relative of some kind.

My husband’s dead; he died in 1788, not long after the Browns moved into their new house; wounded in the Revolution, he never quite recovered and despite the best ministrations of Dr Bowen, Mr S succumbed at last. My son, now 18, was born not long after Mr S returned from the war (Mr S enlisted ‘for 3 years or the war’). Curiously, the chaplain of his regiment is also the pastor at the Congregational church in Providence.

I am a nearly non-observant Anglican, but I recognize Reverend Hitchcock, and know the work he has done in support of free public education. Mr Brown and his brother disagree on many things, but they have at least agreed upon the importance of free public education. My son and I can read, but if Tom had been better educated, perhaps he would not have gone away to sea.

Next I have to think about my cousin from Newport, and the Brown women, and what I think about them.

And there’s still the small matter of sewing two hems, three buttons and three button loops and hoping the whole business will fit properly. At least my friend finished my cap for me. I get just so far, and then I hate caps.